


nightmares and daydreams aren't mutually exclusive

by rustyliver



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-05 03:36:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3104051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rustyliver/pseuds/rustyliver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Myka has nightmares about HG sometimes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	nightmares and daydreams aren't mutually exclusive

Myka has nightmares about HG sometimes.

Some mornings she’d wake up angry as hell, feeling the cold of metal pressed up against her forehead and the shock of electricity so intense her body shakes.

It’s just a dream.

But when HG greets her good morning, she braces herself. Her eyes drop to HG’s hands, what they’re holding, if they’re hiding anything. A single movement would make her reach behind her for that gun she left in the drawer of her night stand.

HG looks at Myka, hurt, but a smile spreads across her face.

"Just need my morning tea," she says.

Then she moves around the kitchen awkwardly, always at least a foot away from Myka even when the box of teabags she’s looking for is in the cabinet behind Myka’s head.

She shakes her head and tells Myka some bad excuse to get out of the kitchen without her tea and Myka just nods because as bad she feels, there’s a knife someone left in the sink two inches to her left and she’s not going to let HG anywhere near it.

Some mornings Myka wakes up with wet eyes. Her ears are ringing and Pete has to bang on her door a hundred times before she hears it. It’s like she was just near an explosion.

Pete has to bang another hundred times before she groggily answer, her voice hoarse like she had been sobbing through the night.

It’s just a dream.

But she can’t seem to rise out of bed. Everything is so heavy; her blanket, her eyelids, her head, her chest—even her feet. When she finally manages to crawl out of bed and toward her sturdy desk where she can slowly and painfully rise on her two feet, she drags them to the door and opens it about three inches just so she can ask,

"Where’s Helena?"

He shouts for HG and catches her before her hand could no longer hold onto the door frame.

She’s hot, he tells her and carries her back to bed.

It’s a dream.

A dream she can’t even remember but when HG comes through the door and rushes to her side, she weeps on HG’s shoulder and holds HG tight, telling HG repeatedly to never ever leave her.

Her ears hear her words as gibberish but HG leans to one of them anyway and whispers, “I wouldn’t dare.”

Most mornings she wakes up before her alarm even sounds. She jumps out of bed and goes straight to her closet to decisively pick her clothes for the day.

And every second from then on is never wasted. She doesn’t let any one moment slip away from her, even the idle ones like when it’s Pete’s turn to drive. She would read the file Artie gives them from front to back repeatedly until they get to where they’re headed even though she could memorize its content word for word in just one reading.

But some afternoons when they get an easy case that can be solved before rush hour, when she immerses herself into a book and allows her mind to wander, it sometimes wanders toward HG.

Instead of cushioned by a throw pillow, her head is cushioned by HG’s lap. She tries to read her book but she can’t get past a paragraph before her eyes wander up to HG who is staring at her with a content smile.

"Stop," she says. "You’re distracting me."

"You distracted me first," HG says, comically attempting to frown but fails happily when Myka giggles.

"I’m never going to finish this book," Myka says, also failing happily at pouting.

"So maybe we shouldn’t read together."

"Maybe."

But instead of moving off to their respective rooms to read without distraction, they put aside their books and stare at each other with big dumb smiles on both their faces, almost like they’re in a trance that is only broken when Myka couldn’t stand it any longer and gives HG a light peck on the lips and nuzzles her nose against HG’s.

Then Pete and Claudia return from their ice cream trip with cheer in their voices and Myka opens her eyes to darkness and the smell of paper right under her nose. She pulls her book down to her chest and is surprised to find herself staring at the ceiling.

"HG!"

Myka sits up immediately and finds HG sitting across from her, looking away guiltily and toward Pete who is hugging a paper bag.

"Here’s your rocky road," Pete says, taking a pint of the ice cream out from the bag and sets it on the coffee table. "And…your mint chocolate chip."

Myka picks them both up. “How many times do I have to tell you? You’re going to ruin the table.”

He looks at the stack of magazines on the table that is covering a hole underneath it because  _someone_ , she won’t say who, didn’t bag an artifact properly two weeks ago.

Myka rolls her eyes and huffs away to the kitchen.

She doesn’t realize that she was followed until she hears the clink of bowls being set on the kitchen counter.

"I quite like to eat my rocky road now," HG says when Myka turns around from the fridge.

"Sure," Myka mutters and proceeds to hit her nose on the freezer door as she tries to open it and turn around at the same time.

HG rushes toward her.

"Are you okay?"

"I’m okay," Myka replies, rubbing her nose.

"Let me see," HG says and Myka complies, dropping her arms to her sides.

It’s only when HG almost rubs her nose with Myka’s that Myka realizes how close they are from each other and HG is as suprised as her because she jerks backwards at the same time Myka flinches at their almost touch.

"Looks fine," HG mumbles and takes both ice cream out of the freezer. When Myka looks questioningly at the pint of mint chocolate chip, she says, "I’d assumed—would you care to join me?."

Myka has met her sugar quota for the day but her hand pushes a bowl toward HG anyway.

"I would love to."


End file.
